


Scarred

by Help__Obsessed_Artist



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Love, Damian Wayne Feels, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, POV Damian Wayne, Protective Stephanie Brown, References to Depression, Scars, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, angry Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Help__Obsessed_Artist/pseuds/Help__Obsessed_Artist
Summary: Damian notices some weird scars on Tim's leg.





	Scarred

**Author's Note:**

> TW: SELF-HARM

Damian flipped through the early morning television channels boredly. Alfred was curled on his lap, purring in a ray of sunshine peeking through the living room blinds. Titus was busy playing in the yard while Pennyworth clipped the hedges. The boy sighed. It was summer, and he was  _ bored _ . The day had only just begun, but Damian itched for patrol, for something to do. Perhaps he could ask someone to spar with him. 

Grayson had returned to Bludhaven for the month, Todd and Brown were probably still asleep, and Drake- 

-came shuffling into the room shortly after Damian had chosen a channel. He frowned, watching boredly as his older brother walked tiredly to the coffee pot, refilling a Superman mug he already had in hand. It was unlikely the former Robin would be up for a spar after an all-nighter. Drake turned with the newly-filled mug, pausing and blinking at Damian, as if just noticing he was there. 

“Drake.” Damian tutted. 

“Gremlin.” Drake sighed groggily, blinking a couple more times before shrugging and plopping next to his brother on the sofa. The younger blinked back at the television for a second when his attention was stolen by Alfred moving. She stretched, meowing affectionately as Damian patted her head, before jumping off the couch to stalk to her food bowl. 

Damian frowned. 

As his eyes had followed her, he caught sight of the skin under one of the rolled up pant-legs of Drake’s sweats. Thin scars, several inches long, raised the skin in several places along Drake’s outer leg. They were all in different stages of healing; some crossing over others, but all old. 

The cuts weren’t deep enough to cut the tendon on Drake’s outer ankle, and they weren’t jagged as if attempting to cut something out. 

Damian was bewildered. 

What could possibly have caused the markings? Torture? The ankle wasn’t an ideal place to inflict pain, and the scars indicated reopening over several years. They weren’t surgical either. 

Drake seemed to notice him staring and quickly shoved his pant leg down, nearly spilling his coffee in the process. Damian raised an eyebrow. 

“What are those?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Drake, I know a scar when I see one.” Damian grunted, crossing his arms. The older boy shot him a tired glance. 

“Then why are you asking?” 

“They are abnormal. Not battle scars.” 

Drake closed his eyes, inhaling briefly and Damian only grew more curious. 

“No. Not from a normal battle.” He said quietly. 

“Then where-” 

Drake stood suddenly, walking toward the door without sparing the younger another glance. 

“Just drop it.” 

* * *

“Todd.” 

The second Robin peeked over his book, frowning at the youngest Wayne. 

“What’s up?” 

“You have many scars, correct?” 

Todd frowned further and Brown paused from where she was browsing on the other end of the library. 

“Uh, yeah I guess. Why?” 

“So you’ve been through many battles?” 

“What’s this about, Short Stack?” Todd asked, putting his book aside. Damian crossed his arms over his chest. He looked, confused, no doubt, and that was alarming. 

“What is considered an ‘unstandard battle’?” 

“A… what???” Todd looked just as confused as him, and Brown made her way to stand beside him, curious now. 

“Drake claimed he fought in an unstandard battle and thus received multiple scars from it. I was seeking clarification as to the parameters of an unstandard battle so I might avoid being taken off guard.” 

Todd ran a hand through his hair, shrugging. “Uh… Shit, I don’t know. We all have weird scars.” 

Damian shook his head. “These were repetitive, and strange. They brandished his leg like this,” He dragged a finger across his forearm and Brown went stiff as a board. 

Under normal circumstances, Damian could predict what could make his brother snap. A couple teasing words here and there, a chip in his helmet, even someone eating the last of the Doritos Alfred purchased reluctantly upon his request. 

Damian  _ hadn’t _ expected him to explode because he simply dragged a finger over his skin. 

The large man stood fast, the couch scraping loudly across the hardwood floors of the library. Damian stepped back, crouched low on instinct, but Todd was already stomping past him. 

Brown seemed to snap out of her trance, beating Todd to the door and  _ slamming _ it shut. She whirled on the man, pointing a finger, face twisted in fury. 

“Don’t. You.  _ Dare _ .” She seethed, and Damian blinked in shock. 

Anger was rolling off of Todd in waves. His short temper was no surprise to his siblings, but they knew not to get in between Todd and his need to hit something; otherwise that something might be them. But Brown planted her feet, barricading Todd into the room and almost  _ taunting _ him to try and make her move. 

Damian swallowed. 

The man moved to grab her and Brown  _ shoved _ him, knocking him back several feet and maintaining her presence at the door. 

“I said: Don’t you  _ dare _ , Jason!” 

“Move!” He growled and she shoved him back again. 

“ _ You _ don’t get to be angry!” She screamed back, grabbing him by the shirt as if to keep him there. “ _ You _ don’t get to make him feel bad for how he coped! I’m sure he feels bad enough that his  _ little brother _ saw them!!!” 

Damian flinched when she pointed at him, but her words made him blink. 

“Of course I get to be mad!” Todd argued. “He didn’t fucking tell me!” 

Brown’s next words were low, trembling and horse from the sudden screaming, but no less furious. “ _ He didn’t tell  _ **_anyone_ ** . I found out by accident, and I’ll be  _ damned _ if I let you bring it up with him!” 

Todd tore his shirt from her hold, turning to stalk to the other side of the room and punch a bookshelf, several novels toppling onto the floor. Brown sighed, running a hand through her blonde locks and putting a hand on her hip. 

“Why the  _ fuck _ would he do that?” Todd growled and Brown barked out a hysterical half-laugh, throwing her arms to the side. 

“Have you fucking  _ met _ his parents? Tim’s not exactly open about his life before us, but even a blind man could see how shitty they were! How shitty his life was! It’s pretty hard to tell people how you feel when your fucking  _ father _ screams at you every time you cry!” 

Silence. 

“... I don’t understand,” Damian said carefully, refusing to let Brown’s uncharacteristic anger show it had rattled him, “Those wounds were inflicted by Jack Drake?” 

“No.” Todd said hotly through a clenched jaw, his boots smacking loudly against the floors as he paced. “Tim did that to  _ himself _ .” 

Damian’s eyes widened and Brown moved a hand to cover her face, her shoulders trembling slightly. He thought back, noting all the memories he had of Drake. He realized the older boy never wore shorts, all his socks were long, and he grew anxious whenever  _ anyone _ touched his legs. Aside from Alfred, Damian assumed no one in the family had seen them. 

He swallowed. 

He couldn’t fathom  _ why _ Drake would willingly take a blade to his skin in a non training scenario. His mind ran through the possible reasons; to test his pain tolerance? To create an immunity against the shock of seeing blood? 

Then, it clicked. 

Damian’s spine tingled with a cold chill as his brain thought of one word. The word he knew so well, he had nightmares about it. The word that froze Damian to his very core; the word that made him fear ever returning to his mother. 

“ _ Punishment _ ...” 

Brown sighed brokenly, composing herself with a sniff and running another hand through her golden hair. 

“Yeah. Tim punished himself every time he disappointed his shit excuses for parents. Every time he  _ felt _ something.” 

* * *

Damian knocked lightly on his brother’s door, entering slowly when there was a small noise on the other side. Drake pulled a shirt on before rubbing at the wetness of his hair with the towel over his shoulders. He blinked at Damian, shrugging. 

“What?” 

Damian seemed conflicted, biting his lip for a moment before steeling himself and walking forward. 

He wound his arms almost reluctantly around Drake’s slender frame, squishing his cheek against the elder’s sternum. He felt the muscles in his brother’s back tighten and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight the hot embarrassment threatening to show on his dark cheeks. 

“Uh… What are you… doing…?” He felt Drake’s question rumble from his chest, muffled against his ear and Damian hugged tighter. 

He had never  _ hugged _ Drake before. In fact, he had never willingly hugged anyone with the exception of a select few in the family. Before Grayson, hugs were foreign and childish. 

However, Damian would never admit he  _ liked _ them. 

“I do not like feelings.” Damian said shortly, and he knew his brother had blinked in confusion at the statement. “However, Grayson informed me shortly after my coming here, that feelings are natural, and I cannot rid myself of them, no matter how I try.” 

“Ok…?” Drake said slowly. 

“I have learned it is okay to have feelings.” Damian clarified. 

“Good for you.” Drake responded and the younger scowled. 

“Tt. It is okay for  _ you _ to have feelings too.” 

He felt Drake’s even breaths get caught in his throat for a moment, the muscles in his back winding even tighter. 

Damian huffed,  _ willing _ himself not to move before the elder boy relaxed, if only slightly. 

The moment he did, Damian pulled away, straightening his shirt and crossing his arms over his chest. Drake was staring at him with a small, almost relieved  _ smile _ on his face. Damian tutted again. 

“Perhaps you could learn something from me.” He stated, turning on his heel and walking quickly out the door. 

Drake sighed. “Yeah… Maybe I could.” 


End file.
